Taking a deep breath and bowing his head, the Chancellor stepped forward. “Your Majesty,” he began, hoping his voice didn’t sound as shaky as he felt, “six of our northern garrisons along the Silk Road have fallen in a coordinated attack.” The dozens of official scribes who surrounded the leader kept their heads down, but the Chancellor saw them shift nervously on their feet. The Emperor himself remained silent, his body in shadow. The Chancellor went on. “All trade in the northern region has been disrupted.”

“And my citizens?” the Emperor asked, his voice low.

“Slaughtered,” the Chancellor replied. “This soldier is the only survivor.” He nodded to a young man who was kneeling nearby. Even from a distance, the Chancellor could see the guard’s face was drawn and pale. What he had seen at the garrison had been, in his own words, nightmarish. He had spoken of a winged witch and fierce warriors. Even just thinking about it made the hairs on the Chancellor’s arms rise. “I fear more attacks will follow.” 本章未完，请点击下一页继续阅读！ 第3页/共10页